Premonitions
by Snowflower55
Summary: Something's wrong with Alfred, and it couldn't be any more obvious to his brother Matthew. Could it be that memories of the past have resurfaced to haunt Alfred? Can he be helped, or is he just another lost cause?
1. Prelude

Matthew slowly looked up at the man sitting across from him. He was almost afraid to look up, afraid to gaze into the eyes of his only living blood relative. But he did anyway. The person sitting across from him quickly caught his gaze. Matthew froze, he could have sworn his heart stopped for a small frame of time solely out of terror.

"What's the matter, Matthew?" a twisted, almost evil expression slowly crossed his features. Matthew waited for him to continue, but a dead silence crept across the room. He wanted Matthew to answer him.

"Wh...What happened to you?" Matthew reluctantly asked.

"What happened to me?..." the man said, letting it sink in. "Matthew, don't you get it? I grew up." he said.

"But...I still don't understand why..." Matthew stuttered. "...Why...How could you be so different..." Matthew said, and shut his eyes close to avoid the stare that he was sure was coming his way.

"Life is a funny thing, Matthew." he said. Matthew heard the chair scratch the tile floor, followed by the sound of footsteps. He slowly, very slowly opened his eyes to see his brother standing directly in front of him. His usual air of contentedness had been replaced but one of omen, the kind that provoked an unexplainable fear.

"Y'see, I learned a lot of things after the war, Matthew. This world is a cruel place, especially for people like you and me. The weak are oppressed by the strong, intolerance is abound. You'll learn someday..."

"That's the way life is. We've got to deal with it. I know it can be depressing, but you can't just let it take over." Matthew said. "Alfred...What's really wrong?" Matthew asked. A long silence again took control of the room, and Alfred's piercing gaze softened just a bit. Without another word, Alfred turned around and retreated to his room. Matthew sighed and rested his chin on the palms of his hands. Kumajiro, who had been sitting in a corner, eating his breakfast at the time, walked over to Matthew, sat next to his feet, and starred up at him. Matthew picked him up.

"What's wrong with him?..." Matthew asked Kumajiro.


	2. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: A good bit longer than the prelude, but hopefully it'll be worth your time. Thanks for reading.

The next day, Matthew woke up early. He quickly threw on his red hoodie and blue jeans and stepped out into the hallway without waking Kumajiro, who lay at the foot of his bed. He slowly made his way down the hall, stopping at a door a few down from his own. The door in question was slightly ajar, and Matthew peered behind it. As usual, Alfred laid in his bed, blanket covering his face, glasses resting on his nightstand. Alfred had never been a morning person and neither had Matthew, but at least Matthew could be when the need arose. Instead of risking waking Alfred up, heavy a sleeper he may be, Matthew continued on down the hall to the front room. He took his set of house keys, opened the front door, than locked it behind him when he stepped out. He turned around to see the sun just beginning to rise over the measly front yard of the house the two brothers shared. Matthew inhaled heavily, put his house keys in his pocket, and then walked off of the front porch and eventually out of the lawn.

He continued for a good fifteen minutes until the beaten road ended into a wooded area. Matthew easily moved through the dense forest and, after getting his hood snagged on a branch, finally came to a very small clearing overlooking a deep valley. Matthew sat near the edge to the valley's cliff. He had been coming here since he was very young. The place held significance to him, even if some of the events were blurry in his memory. He closed his eyes and mulled over the events of the past few years in his mind.

Where had it all begun? It was hard to say. Matthew hadn't gotten to see Alfred much after the War of 1812, which had left the brothers on bad terms, even if it was unspoken. Matthew's best guess was the American Civil War, where Alfred's charges, the states, had split in two. Alfred and his boss had tried desperately to keep the nation together, but anger had long built up between the two sides. The Northern states pushed the southern states around endlessly, and the Southerns, even though they were at times the victims, were unreasonable. Alfred had watched his charges, which were practically like little siblings to him (and to some extent, even to Matthew) fight each other bitterly.

In 1865, right after the end of the war, Alfred's boss was murdered. Alfred had been left with his new boss, who had good intentions but was inexperienced, to lead the states into a new reality. The states argued endlessly. The Southerns live in practical poverty, and the Northerns were fairly bitter towards them. The two sides hated each other; they had forgotten what they had been through less then a century earlier. The American Revolution had brought them all together, had made them a family. And now they couldn't stand to be in the same room.

Matthew skipped through the next few decades in his mind to the end of World War II. Alfred's boss had insisted on attacking Kiku, one of Alfred's best friends. Alfred hated himself for it, but he followed his boss' orders and practically destroyed his friend. Alfred did his best to get Kiku back on his feet afterward, but the tension had never been fully erased.

Than came the murder of Gilbert Beilschmidt. The other Allies had framed it to look like suicide, even though Gilbert was one of the least likely people in the world to think of such a thing even jokingly. Matthew remembered that scene vividly.

He remembered the other Allies telling him to go to Gilbert's house for a 'political meeting', whose details they didn't quite explain. Matthew was curious, but being the submissive type he was, asked no questions. On the appointed night, Matthew had shown up at Gilbert's home late.

'I hope the others don't mind...' he thought as he knocked on the door. Francis, his former guardian, had answered the door. His usual pleasant expression had been placed by a look of guilt, even self-hatred.

"Matthew...You made it." he said.

"Yeah...Sorry I'm late." Matthew said, too surprised by Francis' mood to be happy that he had been remembered. "So...What did I miss?" Matthew said. Francis let him in the house, which seemed deathly quiet. Matthew looked around.

"The others are upstairs..." Francis said as he headed towards the stairway. "Just...Stay here, I'll get them..." he said. Matthew stood near the doorway, not wanting to be rude and welcome himself into Gilbert's home, waiting for the others. It was a good five minutes before anyone came down, and to his surprise, it was Arthur. He too had a rather down look on his face.

"Matthew?..." he said. "We didn't think you'd show up..."

"I'm sorry for being late..." he said. "So, uh...Can we see the others now?..." he asked. A long pause followed.

"Uh...Matthew, I think it'd be best if you went home...We've finished everything on the agenda faster than we thought and Gilbert is pretty exhausted..." England said.

"No, I want him to at least know I came." Matthew said, walking up the stairs and passing Arthur. Arthur grabbed his wrist.

"I mean it, Matthew. Go home." Arthur said as he tightened his grip on Matthew's arm.

"No, I want to see Gilbert." he said. Being Alfred's brother, Matthew had also inherited impressive physical strength from their mother, and easily broke free from Arthur's grasp. He bolted up the stairs, past Francis and Alfred, and came upon a slightly opened door.

"Matthew, don't!" Alfred warned, but Matthew didn't listen. He pushed the door open and stood in the doorway, frozen in horror. Gilbert laid on the floor, cold and lifeless, eyes opened and starring up at the ceiling in fear. His white shirt was soaked in blood, and a gun had been placed in his left hand. By his left side sat Ivan, bending over the body, presumably to make sure all signs of murder had been erased. Matthew stuttered, but finally found it in him to break out of his shellshock.

"What did you do?" he nearly screamed. Ivan turned, shocked that Matthew was there, and that he had uttered anything above a low mumble. "Answer me!" Matthew ordered.

"Matthew…Please, lower your tone…" Ivan said. Matthew clenched his fists. Why? Why should he? His 'allies', his own family whom he had trusted and loved, had brutally murdered a perfectly innocent man.

"Answer the question!" Matthew said. The other Allies filed into the room, their heads down.

"Matthew…It's not like we wanted to…" Francis said.

"So? You killed him because you 'had to'?" Matthew said.

"Matthew…We didn't plan for it to come to this. We thought maybe we could negotiate with him, but…Well, it's always good to have a Plan B…" Arthur said as he tried to step in to put a hand on Matthew's shoulder. Matthew turned away in disgust.

"Plan B?" he said. "Is that all this is to you? Is life to be taken so lightly so that it rides on which consequences a person chooses?" Matthew paused shortly. "So, if it benefited you, you would kill me, too?"

"This won't benefit us, Matthew…" Arthur said. "And I'd never even think of such a thing…"

"Than why would you considering killing someone at all!"

"Matthew…" Alfred said, starring at the floor. Matthew turned to him, his gaze softening to disappointment when he saw him.

"Don't tell me you had a part in this." Matthew said. "Please, Alfred, tell me I can at least trust you. Please." Matthew nearly begged. Alfred brushed his wrist across his eyes.

"I tried to stop them, but I was too weak…I'm sorry, little brother…I've failed you…" Alfred said. Matthew dropped to the floor. His anger became fear, he felt so helpless, so childish.

"So…Even you, my brother, my only living relative…Even you've betrayed my trust…" Matthew said before he passed out.

Matthew pushed the thought out of his mind. He didn't want to remember that.

"Matthew…" a quiet voice uttered behind him. Matthew turned to see Alfred standing a few feet behind him. They just starred at each other for a few moments, frozen in time. Alfred, seeing that starring was getting him nowhere, walked over to Matthew and sat down next to him. They just sat there, totally silent, as if time had stopped. Alfred opened his mouth several times to speak, but always froze and fell back into silence. After what seemed like at least half an hour, Alfred stood.

"I'm sorry…" he said before he walked back towards their house. Matthew sighed and gazed out into the valley below.


	3. Chapter 2

"Alfred, that's the dumbest idea I've ever heard."

"Alfred, don't you get how serious this is?"

"Alfred, why don't you go home?"

That was all he ever heard. The criticisms from the other nations had weighed on him since he gained his independence from England. It was never ending. All he heard was 'wrong, wrong, wrong'. He couldn't do anything right, at least not by the others' standards. He would just smile and act like he hadn't noticed, like the comments had not only made a blow to his confidence, but to his general mental state as well. He would play the part of the lovable, naive idiot; it had always been like that. It was the only role he knew how to play.

Alfred sighed heavily and turned his thoughts towards his friends and family.

Arthur had selflessly taken him in when he was broke and raised him as his own brother. Alfred had betrayed him. Even if they were on friendly terms now, it just wasn't the same.

His mother. He didn't even want to think about her. He and Matthew (who was just a very small toddler at the time, and couldn't remember) had abandoned her. Alfred would've given anything to see her again, to talk to her. But he dare not even think of such a thing after what he had done. He was sure his mother wouldn't forgive him, and he didn't blame her.

Matthew. The two hadn't been very close until the early 1900s. The few times they met before, Alfred would get bored of Matthew, as if he were just a mere object to be thrown aside. And now he was always getting Matthew in trouble. He didn't know how Matthew could stand him, to be honest.

Kiku. Kiku had been a loyal friend ever since the mid-1800s, the two were very close. But...They had been on opposite sides in World War II. At the very end...His boss had ordered him to attack Kiku. That had killed Alfred on the inside. He had done everything in his power to help Kiku recover afterward, but there was always an air of unease around them.

Toris. Toris was broke after World War II, so he came to work for Alfred. Toris had been a very good friend, and he still was. But the two didn't get to see each other often, and Ivan was usually with them.

Ivan. At the thought of it, Alfred couldn't help but laugh a little. The two could never agree during strategy meetings or at World Summits, and the Cold War had made them unofficial enemies. But...Of all the people in the world, Ivan was the one who understood him best. The loneliness, the pain...Ivan had been through it all himself.

"That's it." Alfred unconsciously said to himself as he stood. "I'll talk to him. Maybe…Just maybe we can get along for once…" he said as he walked out of the laundry room.

…..

"Alfred…" Matthew called out as he walked down the stairs. He hadn't seen Alfred all morning, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't just a bit worried. "Alfred…" he called again after several seconds of dead silence. "Alfred, where are you?" again, his question was answered by an unnerving silence.

'Where are you?...' Matthew thought as he walked into to kitchen. As he did, a knock on the door rung out. He walked into the living room and opened it to find Wang Yao at the front, dressed smartly in the People's Republic of China's army uniform.

"Oh, hello Matthew." He said cordially. "Is Alfred home?..." he asked.

"No…Sorry, I haven't seen him all day." Matthew said.

"Oh." Yao replied.

"Uh…Do you want to come in? It's cold outside…" Matthew offered.

"That would be nice." Yao said. "Thank you."

...

Alfred sighed as he zipped up his jacket. He should've known it would be freezing around Ivan's house, it always was. He sighed and walked up to the front door, pushing the button next to it to ring the doorbell. A speaker on the other side of the door buzzed quietly before Ivan's voice came through.

"Hello? Who is it?" he asked. Alfred pushed the connection button and spoke into the speaker.

"Eh…Hey Ivan." He said.

"Alfred? What're you doing here?" Ivan asked. Alfred couldn't help but think how odd it was that Ivan seemed almost pleasantly surprised instead of angry. He remembered the few times Ivan had visited him, he'd pretend he wasn't there and wait until Ivan left.

"Uh…Ivan, listen." Alfred replied. "I…I want to talk to you." A short pause followed.

"About what? Did I forget about a contract signing?..." Ivan asked.

"No, I just…Wanted to talk." Alfred said.

"This isn't like you." Ivan said. "…Alright, I'll be down in a moment." He said.

"Thanks." Alfred replied. After a short wait, he heard the lock on the door turn, then the door cracking open. Ivan stood on the other side, wearing his casual black jacket and his usual scarf.

"Hi." Alfred said. Ivan smiled pleasantly.

"Do you want to come in? I can make some tea." Ivan said. Alfred inwardly cringed at the thought of tea. Arthur used to practically shove the stuff down his throat; he just couldn't stand drinking it anymore.

"Thank you." Alfred said as he walked into Ivan's home.

…..

"Yao, what business do you have with my brother?" Matthew asked. Yao, who was sitting on a chair across from him, looked up.

"Nothing really. He just owes me some money…" Yao said.

"Oh…" Matthew replied. Alfred hadn't been that great with money lately.

"Not like I was going to harass him…I just wish he would pay me back every now and then." Yao said.

"Of course." Matthew agreed. A long silence followed.

"Has Alfred been ok?..." Yao asked. "Doesn't look like he's doing so well…"

"He's been really emotional lately…I don't know much other then that."

"Do you know where he is?" Yao asked. Matthew hated to admit it, but he couldn't lie.

"…I don't."

"Hm…" Yao said. "Do you know where he might've gone?..." Matthew thought on this for a moment.

"He tends to do the opposite of what I think he will…" he replied.

"Then…Where do you think he wouldn't go?" Yao asked.

"Arthur's house?...No, he visits…Hm…"

"Maybe to see Ivan?" Yao asked. Matthew couldn't help but laugh. "What?"

"…Heh, Yao, I know he always opposes my expectations, but he would NEVER go there voluntarily…" Matthew said.

"…Exactly." Yao said. Matthew grew solemn.

"But…But why?" Matthew asked.

"When you think about it, those two have more in common then meets the eye. They may fight a lot, but…They're very similar. I think Ivan would understand whatever Alfred is going through better then anyone…" Yao said. Matthew fell totally silent. He had never noticed Yao was so insightful. But he couldn't think of that now. Alfred was very possibly putting someone; or even worse, himself, in danger.

'He must be desperate to do that…' Matthew thought. Then a realization finally hit him.

"Oh no…" Matthew thought as he stood and looked for his red hoodie.

"What's wrong?" Yao asked.

"What if Alfred does something rash? What if he hurts someone…?" Matthew said as he found the hoodie and slipped it over his head.

"Not to offend you, but I think Alfred has some sort of self-control, Matthew."

"Yao…You haven't had to live with him since the war…He can be very reckless." Matthew said. "I'm sorry, but I have to go after him. Stay as long as you like." Matthew said as he headed for the door.

"Wait." Yao said as he stood and followed Matthew. "If your brother really is in trouble, I want to come with you."

"Why?" Matthew questioned. Yao lowered his head.

"The bond of brothers is very fragile for people like us…You turn the other way, and as soon as you look back, your brother is holding a sword to your throat, or running away…" Yao said. "That's happened with too many of my siblings. You shouldn't have to go through that. I don't know how much help I am, but…"

"Thank you…" Matthew said. "We should get going. No telling what'll happen." Matthew said as he opened the door and stepped out. 'If Yao's really like this, I wonder what the other nations are like once you get to know them…' Matthew thought.

…..

"So…What did you want to talk about?" Ivan said as he sat across from Alfred.

"Well…Y'see…" Alfred stuttered. How was he supposed to say it without looking like a weakling? "I've been having a lot of trouble lately, and…I thought since you've been through a lot of the stuff I have, you could…Help…Me?" Alfred wanted to bite down on his tongue. The hero was never supposed to need help, especially from former Commies. 'Why did I even come here?...' he thought as Ivan starred at him blankly.


	4. Chapter 3

AN: I admit to making Matthew a tad bit too angsty, and for that, I apologize. Thanks for bearing with me to this point. Also, I'd like to dedicated this next post to Sparkly Emerald, who's been very helpful and honest in her reviews.

"Ivan, you gotta help me." Alfred said quietly. "I feel like I'm going freaking insane...I...Like I'm about to just rip my own throat out." he looked down at the wood floor. "Please..." he practically begged. "I don't know how much more of it I can take!" he fell on his knees to the floor, his coarse nails scraping into the waxed wood. "Day in and day out...My brain feels like it's frying inside my skull!...Please, you're the only one that can help me...!" he said. A deathly silence fell over the room, and Alfred was scarred to look up to see Ivan's expression. After several moments that had been stretched out to long hours by Alfred's demented mind, he heard a sound rising from the other man. It was muffled, almost as if Ivan was trying to hold it back. Alfred finally looked up and was broken by what he saw. Ivan was laughing.

The laughter soon broke Ivan's guard and poured out from him into the large, cold room. It was the kind of laughter you'd expect from Ivan; cute, childish, but it carried bitter undertones of insanity and frigid cruelty. Alfred sat on his knees, totally dumbfounded by the situation.

As Ivan finally calmed down, he spoke.

"...I-I'm sorry, Alfred, I'm not laughing at you-I just..." he again broke into another fit. "This is a situation of...What does Francis call it?...'déjà vu'?..." he calmed down as time passed, finally setting into a pattern of heavy breathing. He stood and offered his hand to Alfred. Alfred looked at the gloved hand reluctantly and slowly took it.

"I never thought it would happen to you...Of all people! The self-proclaimed hero of the world..." he said. "You just never seemed like that kind of person to me..."

"What kind of person?" Alfred asked bitterly. Ivan's smile disappeared and his eyes nearly glazed over.

...

"Yao…" Matthew asked. Yao quickly turned his head to gaze at Matthew.

"Hm?" he muttered.

"You don't think…Alfred would actually…" Matthew fell silent, afraid to even say it.

"Maybe, maybe not." Yao said as he turned back around and continued on. "That's why we're going to check, right? To make sure he doesn't do anything…Rash."

"Yeah…I guess you're right." Matthew said as he continued behind him. "Hey, Yao?..."

"Yes?"

"You…You didn't have anything to do with Gilbert's murder, did you?" he asked. Yao sighed, not out of annoyance, but concern.

"That really bothers you, doesn't it?..." Yao asked calmly.

…

"Well? Answer me!" Alfred demanded as he stood facing Ivan. Ivan silently looked down, and, for the first time since the two had met, anger flared up in his purple eyes. "What, is it one of your little Commie rules to never tell?" he asked. Ivan slowly looked up and gazed directly into Alfred's eyes. Alfred gazed back, frightened by the bestial anger and pain Ivan had put on display. Before he knew it, Ivan had a gloved hand wrapped around Alfred's throat. The pressure wasn't enough to make Alfred feel much more than discomfort, but Ivan's hand shook violently, as though he was holding back on actually strangling the man.

"You think…" Ivan finally said. "That you have it hard?" he said. "You haven't seen anything compared to what I've been through…" he said, tightening his grip slightly. "The czars…dictators…Genocide…Economic depression…Religious persecution…Being forced to slaughter millions of your own people…! Do you know what that's like?" he said as he pushed Alfred against the wall.

"And was anyone there for me? Was there anyone that wasn't afraid to just take my hand and tell me it would be alright?" he paused. "No! I had to solve my own problems. I'm alone, Alfred. Even my family is afraid of me…Except for Natalia." He finally released his grip, and Alfred fell to his knees. "As far as I'm concerned, I'm not even human anymore…" he said. "But maybe that's for the better." He said, and looked at Alfred. "Don't look at me like that, you know it's the truth." he said.

"At least that's what everyone expects from you." Alfred finally said.

"What does that mean, my dear comrade?..." Ivan questioned icily.

…

"I didn't have time to contribute to the Allies after the war. My people were starving, revolt was in the air, and my siblings were running out on me one by one. But…I did catch wind of the murder." Yao admitted. "I came to a meeting after being absent for a long time, and they talked about it as though they had been planning it for months. I was horrified…But, beyond lecturing them and storming out, I did nothing to stop them…I didn't think that they'd actually go through with it. They're always fighting, they can never get anything done…" he looked down. "I'm sorry…"

Matthew sighed and went on.

"And…What about my brother?" he asked. "Did he…Did he really…"

…

"Everyone always treats me like I'm an idiot. But, at the same time, they want me to be there whenever they're in trouble, to bolt them out of a tight situation."

"I though you were just nosy."

"…No! Anyway, I'm sick of it. Sometimes, I wonder…If you're right, if things really would be better if I just minded my own business. Let the world rot, for all I care!" he said. "But…I can't do that." He said.

"Why not?" Ivan inquired matter-of-factly.

"Because…" Alfred clenched his fists. "Because…I'm supposed to be the hero. Everyone expects it from me…And…My brother, and Gilbert!" he said. Ivan turned and looked as though he had come to a sudden realization.

"Oh…I see." He said as he walked over to Alfred. "You feel guilty."

"I was too weak to stop you…I betrayed Matthew's trust…" he said. Ivan laughed again.

"What?"

"Alfred…Don't you remember?..."

…

"Please don't lie, Yao." Matthew said. "Please." He finished. Yao sighed again.

"It…Wasn't his idea." Yao said. "He didn't want to do it, originally…But…He…"

"What?" Matthew asked with an undertone of impatience.

"He…."

…

"You're the one who killed him." Ivan said.

"I…!" Alfred said. "I don't…I didn't!"

"You must have suppressed the memory." Ivan said. "You went into shock and collapsed after Gilbert hit the ground…"

"I…I did?..."

"Oh, yes. Arthur was rather worried that you had finally managed to crack your thick skull open…I guess after you came to and he realized you didn't remember, he just decided not to tell you…" Ivan said.

"I…That…That's impossible! You're lying! You HAVE to be!"

"Alfred…I know you're not stupid." Ivan started. "Mostly, anyway. But…Really, what would I have to gain from lying to you at this point in time?"

"Well…"

"Let me rephrase that." Ivan said. "I mean, why and how would I come up with that sort of lie?" he asked.

"I…" Alfred closed his eyes and concentrated.

"Try to remember, Alfred." Ivan said.

…

Matthew fell on his knees.

"You mean?..."

"…I'm sorry, Matthew."

"But…Why? How…?" Matthew asked.

"I don't know…When we talked about it in a meeting, he didn't remember…"

…..

"You didn't have to do it." Ivan said. "If I knew how upset you would get, I would've shot him. But you were set on it…" he said. "I don't understand. No one forced you…Why?"

"I don't know!" Alfred said. "I just…I've never conquered another country like you and the others had. I thought, maybe, if I was going to be a great nation, I had to…" another deathly silence occurred. And, as before, it was eventually broken by Ivan's frantic laughter.

"So the truth finally reveals itself." Ivan said.

…

Matthew couldn't help but utter a few heart-wrenching sobs.

"Oh God, why?" Matthew asked as Yao helped him stand. "Why Al, why?..."

Yao sighed concernedly and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry…" he said under his breath. "I'm so sorry…" Barely a moment passed before Matthew spoke again.

"We have to go…Now! I've already wasted enough time…" he said as he practically ran off. "Even if he did kill Gilbert, he's still my brother…"


	5. Chapter 4

"So now that you know the truth..." Ivan began as he stood before Alfred's crumpled figure. "I'm curious. What are you going to do?" he asked. Alfred shot a gaze infused with a mixture of anger and confusion up at him.

"What do you mean?..." he replied.

"Really, Alfred, I thought it would be obvious." he said as he paused and walked over to stare out of the nearest window, his arms folded behind his back. "You killed him. You killed a defenseless man who had surrendered unconditionally. He had admitted his wrongs and was willing to do anything to set them right...Or, at least, as best as he could." he paused once more. "Most would consider that to be the work of a man who had not an ounce of compassion for his fellow man...Perhaps even stripped of his humanity. No more than a destructive monster..."

"Don't give me that crap!" Alfred said as he jumped up, fists clenched. "Hypocrite! You were a part of it! Hell, who knows what you've done?" he said. Ivan slowly turned to look at Alfred, and he saw that Ivan was wearing a cruel smirk.

"Perhaps..." Ivan said. "To be honest, I'm surprised you even know that word, much less how to properly use it. But, that's beside the point. Maybe I am like you..." he said, never breaking his gaze. "But at least I'll admit to it."

...

"Come on, Yao!" Matthew said as he ran ahead.

"Just...Just a moment..." Yao said as he struggled to keep up with the man. He wasn't used to so much running, and he wouldn't have thought Matthew was, either.

"We're almost there!" Matthew said as he practically disappeared from Yao's view.

...

"I know I'm not a good person." Ivan said as he walked towards Alfred. "I know I'm barely a person at all, if that." he continued right before he stopped in front of Alfred. "But you? You still insist that you're right, that you can make no error. That anyone who opposes you is evil and must be destroyed..." he laughed. "And there's nothing I hate more than a habitual liar. Absolutely disgusting. In some ways...That's far worse than simply being nonhuman..."

At this point, Alfred could take no more.

"Shut the hell up!" he said as he delivered a righteous punch to Ivan's jaw. Ivan barely flinched, but turned his head to the side as blood began to dribble from his mouth.

"To think that actually slightly hurt..." Ivan said as he wiped the blood off of his chin with his sleeve.

"I can make it hurt a lot more if you want." Alfred said as he drew back his arm for another strike. Ivan cackled helplessly.

"You can, can you...?" he said between fits of laughter.

"I thought I told you to shut up!" Alfred said as he punched Ivan again, this time knocking him back a step.

"Hm...Very interesting, indeed..." Ivan said as he tried to regain his composure. Before he could, Alfred punched him again, this time knocking Ivan to the wooden floor.

"What are you, a scientist?" Alfred said as he stood before him.

"I wouldn't say that..." Ivan replied. "Just intrigued."

Alfred paused, waiting for an explanation.

...

'Please, Al...' Matthew thought as he neared Ivan's front yard. 'Please, don't do anything drastic...'

...

"I just can't map you out." Ivan said. "Your thought process is illogical and random. I can't find a pattern...It's almost ridiculous. But very interesting, at the same time..." Ivan laughed. "I guess you could say observing that sort of thing about people is a bit of a hobby..." he finished. Alfred stood motionless, annoyed and angry.

"I'm not an experiment. You can't 'map me out'!" he said as he reached under his jacket.

"Isn't that what I just said?..." Ivan said as Alfred pulled a pistol out from a hidden pocket in his jacket. "Now what would you want with that toy?" Ivan asked mockingly. Alfred angrily aimed it at Ivan's forehead, hand shaking.

"You...You..." he said as tears began to form in his eyes.

"See? This is what I meant." Ivan said coolly, not at all visibly fazed by the fact that a firearm was pointed directly at his head. "Kill the enemy. The enemy is evil. Go on. Shoot, if you feel so inclined."

"You want me to shoot?" Alfred asked.

"Not particularly. But if you want to that badly..." Ivan said.

"Stop playing your mind games!" Alfred said as he switched the safety off.

...

"Ivan!" Matthew said as he banged on the door. No answer. Matthew cursed under his breath.

"What now...?" Yao asked as he finally caught up with Matthew.

"In the back?..." Matthew said as he navigated around the house to the back door. He tried the handle and it clicked satisfyingly. "C'mon!" Matthew said as he entered the house.


	6. Chapter 5

Hey, it's Snowflower55. Sorry to keep you guys hanging for so long, but this next chapter hadn't been finished when I started posting 'Premonitions' on and I've been insanely stressed out over school. But, now school is done for the year, so it's easy-going for the most part now. So, anyway, thanks for being patient and I hope I don't disappoint you.

"Strange…" Ivan said aloud as he stared up at Alfred with a placid gaze on his face.

"What?" Alfred asked, having no more patience to offer the taller man.

"You consider this the action of a hero?" Ivan asked. "Or have you given up on that notion altogether?"

"I…I don't know!" Alfred replied. "Now shut the hell up and die!" he finished just as his index finger began to push down on the pistol's trigger. And who knows? He probably would've pulled the trigger all the way if he hadn't heard a familiar voice call out to him just at that moment.

"Ivan, Alfred, are you here?" the voice inquired softly, with an obvious undertone of worry mixed in. Alfred's eyes grew wide and he turned to face direction the voice came from, which happened to be right behind him. His brother Matthew emerged from a hallway within seconds and his eyes grew wide at the sight unfolding before him.

As much as he wanted to believe that this was a simple misunderstanding and there was a perfectly logical explanation to it all, it was hard to rehash the situation any other way. Man A is sitting on the ground, blood trickling from his mouth, staring up at Man B, who happens to be holding a pistol to his head, with his finger on the trigger. No, as much as he wanted to, there was simply no way Matthew could have possibly misinterpreted this given the circumstances.

"Al?..." Matthew asked incredulously.

"Matthew…" Alfred said as he slowly lowered his gun and turned his face away from his brother, a look of shame replacing his previous expression of shock.

"Al…What were you going to do?" Matthew said, though he knew the answer was painfully obvious. Even though all evidence pointed to the contrary, Matthew still held onto the childish hope that his brother was innocent and this was all a huge misunderstanding.

"I…I…" Alfred said as he put his hand on his face in shame and concentration.

"What were you going to do?" Matthew asked, this time with a hint of disappointment in his voice. At this point, Yao entered behind Matthew and his eyes grew wide at the spectacle, but aside from uttering something unintelligible, remained silent. For whatever reason, Ivan seemed to deem this to be the perfect opportunity to catch up with his new unexpected guests. He sure was getting a lot of those today.

"Good day, Matthew, Yao. How have you been?" he asked as he waved and smiled kindly. Needless to say, he went unanswered.

"Al…Why?" Matthew asked simply.

"I…I don't know! He was making me mad…He…Matthew…There's something I've got to tell you." Al said.

"What, that you killed Gilbert?" Matthew asked with something of an accusatory tone lacing his words. Alfred's expression again adopted a sense of shock as he stared at his brother in misbelief.

"How did you?..." he asked, then trailed off. Matthew quickly picked up on what he was getting at and answered him.

"Yao told me. When were you planning on telling me?" Alfred said.

"I…I forgot! I know it sounds stupid, but…I repressed it or something…"

"Right. That's perfectly logical, Al. When are you going to stop lying to me?"

"No, seriously! Matthew…I swear, I'm not lying! Please, Matthew!" Alfred said as he threw the gun down to the floor and it landed right before Matthew's feet. "Matt…Please. I know I'm an awful brother. I know you deserve better than me, I've treated you awful in the past and I've been getting you in trouble for probably longer than I can remember. But…Even when everyone else lost hope in me, you still worried. You tried to help, but you didn't know how to…I'm so sorry, Matt…" Alfred said as he fell to his knees, tears welling in his eyes as he cast his gaze downward.

"I know. I'm just…Alfred, why didn't you come to me when you needed help? Why'd you let it get this bad? Don't you trust me?" Matthew asked.

"Of course I do! I just…Matthew, I'm more screwed up than you know. Hell, I'm probably as screwed up as Ivan, if not more. I didn't want to put you through any more trouble, bro…"

"You think I'd just ignore it and go about my life like normal?" Matthew said. "Alfred, I worry about you. You're my brother, after all. I want you to be alright, even if half the time you drive me crazy." He paused, walked over to his brother, and knelt down so he could be at eye level with Alfred. "There's something I have to know, though. Why?" he asked.

"Why?" Alfred parroted. "Why? I…Matt, do you remember our mom?..."

"Just barely. I remember Francis telling me she either died or abandoned us…" Matthew remarked.

"That was a lie, too. Matthew…I ran away. I wanted to put the blame on her, so that's why I pretended like I didn't know you when we first 'met'. And whenever I met up with her again…I always hurt her. Always. I'm such an idiot! I don't deserve to even ask for her forgiveness, but I'd give anything to tell her how sorry I am. But I don't deserve that, either…"

"Al…You've made a lot of mistakes." Matthew said. "And you've suffered the consequences. You've done things that can never be made right…But, I guess in a way, we all have…" he said. The other three men silently agreed, though they made no physical notion that they did.

"I know…" Alfred said.

"But Al, what's done is done. You can't dwell on the past, it won't get you anywhere. Trust me, I know from experience." Matthew said as he stood and extended a hand to his brother. "It's going to be hard and painful, and sometimes you'll just want to curl up and die, but you don't have to face it alone. I'll always be here for you, Al. Always." He said. Alfred's gaze moved from his brother's face to his hand, for once in his life he was hesitant.

"I don't deserve it, Matt."

"None of us do. Please, if not for yourself, than at least for the people that care for you." Matthew replied. Alfred sighed and, still looking down, took Matthew's hand.

"Matthew?..."

"Hm?"

"…Thanks. For everything. I promise I'll make it up to you…" Alfred said.

"I'm afraid there won't be any time for that." Interjected a new yet frighteningly familiar voice.


	7. Chapter 6

AN: Yeah...After seeing the huge text wall I had created, I ended up dividing the 5th chapter into two parts. Hopefully, it'll be easier on the eyes and attention span.

* * *

The first four men all turned to the opening into the hallway where Yao and Matthew had just entered to see the person they least expected in the whole world. He was just a couple of inches short of Ivan, but built stronger and therefore to some more imposing. His blond hair, which was usually slicked back, was somewhat ragged and his blue eyes, usually the epitome of self-control, practically screamed some deep-seated wrath that stirred from within his soul.

"Ludwig?" Matthew asked, his meek personality kicking back in.

_'Oh God, no. Anyone but him, anyone! How much did he hear?...'_ Matthew thought frantically. Ludwig Beilschmidt was, in common knowledge to all present, the younger brother of the late Gilbert Beilschmidt. To be brutally honest, Matthew understood that Ludwig had every right in the world to be angry with all of them, but he desperately hoped that by some miracle that nothing too harmful would come to pass.

"Why, good day Ludwig. How are you doing? I sure seem to be very popular with unexpected visitors today." Ivan chimed in. Ludwig peered at him, bloody murder dwelling in his eyes. He, like all the others, ignored Ivan's awkward gesture and returned to his original position.

"So, it's as I thought." Ludwig finally said after staring them all down, spending more time on Ivan and Alfred than the other two. "You killed him. You killed my brother." He muttered.

"Ludwig…I…How long have you been listening?..." Matthew finally asked.

"Long enough. I got so sick of all the lies, the cover ups…That's all any of you can do, is it? I knew from the moment that I was told my brother had committed suicide that it was a lie, an absurd lie!" Ludwig exclaimed. "Do you know how I knew?..." he asked. A silence crept across the room like a cancer, infecting everyone in its path, Ludwig for rage, Yao, Matthew, and Alfred for apprehension, and Ivan for pure curiosity.

"Because my brother would never do something like that to himself. I remember he used to tell me that suicide was for cowards, for people who were too scared to deal with the consequences of their actions. Gilbert was a lot of things…But he was NOT a coward!" Ludwig's voice fluctuated volumes, even the man made of stone was having trouble restraining his emotions and his desire to murder two of the four other men. "The very day…The very day you slew him...The very last time I ever spoke to him, we were talking on the phone. He was telling me that we had both made so many mistakes…That there were so many things we couldn't set right. But…We couldn't give up. He said we just had to smile and take the beating we deserved…And then, someday, things would get better. Perhaps some sense of normality would be restored to our lives, some of our mistakes would be corrected. He told me it would be a long, difficult journey, and sometimes it would just be easier to give up, but that we had to keep going. He…" Ludwig paused. "He promised me he'd always be there for me. And I promised the same…" Ludwig said as he grasped the iron cross that hung around his neck.

"But you…" he continued. "You made him into a liar. You made us both liars. I failed him when he needed me most…And although I had Roderich, it still wasn't the same without Gilbert…" he said as he looked off to the side.

"Ludwig…Please, think this through." Yao said. "I understand that you're angry, it's only natural. Alfred, Ivan, and I, we're all to blame…But-" he said.

"Yao, I respect you. You had nothing to do with my brother's death, and I don't want to do you any harm. But this is not your domain, you have no say here." Ludwig replied grimly. Not knowing what else he could say, Yao fell silent.

"Ludwig…" Alfred said, looking down at the floor. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…" he repeated. Ludwig turned violently and his gaze focused on Alfred, his expression having altered from remorse to ire.

"'Sorry?'" he repeated. "That's all you have to say? 'Sorry'? You think that you can just apologize and everything will be alright? That I'll just forgive you and forget anything ever happened?" he thundered in his commanding voice.

"No!" Alfred said. "But it's all I have to offer!..." he said as he again fell to his knees. Ludwig shook his head slowly.

"You don't understand. Gilbert is gone forever. Nothing you or anyone else can do will ever bring him back. Nothing can even begin to make up for the loss of his life…For the loss of my brother…" Ludwig replied.

"You're right…" Alfred agreed pitifully. "I don't understand, I can't understand. I…I'm powerless. Nothing I do will make this right…" suddenly he looked Ludwig in the eyes. "I don't deserve to be forgiven, or to even live. After everything I've done, all the people I've hurt…" he said as the list of people came back into his mind. "The only way I can even begin to make up for it is…To die." He said. At this, Ludwig laughed coldly.

"Pathetic. Trying to escape from your sins and write yourself off as a hero, just as always." He said. "Death is too good for you. In a way, death is release, you'll be free from your mistakes." He said as he picked up Alfred's own pistol. "No, to truly understand my pain…You must suffer the same loss." He said as he looked towards Matthew. At this notion, Alfred sprang into his usual boisterous persona.

"What? No, you can't! He's already suffered enough because of me, he doesn't deserve it!" Alfred said desperately.

"Neither did my brother." He said as he pointed the pistol towards Matthew's forehead. "Matthew, forgive me. I have nothing against you personally, but it's like the saying goes…An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth…" he finished.

Matthew had long since entered a shell-shocked state of mind, just passively watching the events transpire around him as though he was watching a movie. But suddenly, he had been recognized as the actors broke the fourth wall, and apparently, they didn't appreciate his interference in their affairs. He looked over at Alfred once, and then stared straight back at Ludwig. For some reason, he wasn't afraid. Or maybe he had just accepted his fate as inevitable; today he was going to die. Even if it had occurred to him that he should move away his body wouldn't have complied. Finally, he closed his eyes as tears started to flow.

_'So this is how it ends…'_ he thought just before he heard a gun fire and felt himself being pushed aside.

* * *

AN: You didn't really think I'd leave Gilbert's murder unresolved, did you?


	8. Chapter 7

AN: I had the weirdest dream last night. I got a private message from someone saying that they liked this story, but thought it should include elements of Kiku and Yao being in a romantic relationship. I was like 'W…What? Where did that come from? Besides, they're brothers. I don't know about you, but I'm against incest. Plus, Kiku was mentioned once some three chapters ago, and Yao is only somewhat important here. Why would I ruin the focus of the story (and annoy all of my readers) by doing that?' Thankfully, soon after I woke up.

Anyway…I hope you enjoy Premonitions Chapter 7.

* * *

It was remarkable how clean hospitals looked. So white, so barren, so hopeless. Or at least, that's how it appeared to Matthew.

"I'm here to see Alfred Jones." He said quietly. The woman sitting at the front desk looked up at him and quickly turned back to her papers.

"Name?" she asked monotonously.

"Matthew Williams."

"Relation?"

"Brother."

She stood from her seat and picked up a manila folder.

"Come with me." She said. She took him down hallways and up elevators, never once did her gaze digress from anywhere but her current objective. Matthew, however, was rather unsettled by everything he saw. So many people, so many sick or dying, occasionally broken by the reverie of a young family expecting a new member or someone leaving with their loved ones, but those were few and far in between. No, it was probably safe to say that Matthew hated hospitals, at least due to his current situation.

The emotionally distant woman calmly walked him to the ICU, which only increased his misgivings. She pointed to a seat next to several other visitors for his brother and Matthew compliantly sat down.

"Two at a time, whoever's visiting him currently should be out soon." She repeated without thought. He quickly nodded and mumbled a 'thank you' before she left.

"Matthew?" Yao asked concernedly. Matthew turned to him and smiled sadly.

"Hey, Yao." He said.

"Matthew…I'm so sorry." He said. Matthew sighed. Was there any end to Yao's selflessness?

"It's ok…Thank you." He said.

"Mon cher fils…" lamented Francis, Matthew's foster-father. "What happened? Arthur called me and said something happened to your brother…" he asked concernedly.

"Francis…I…" Matthew said as he looked down to the ground. "I can't…"

"He…He was shot." Yao answered for him. Francis' eyes grew dramatically wide.

"By who?..." Francis inquired.

"…Ludwig…" Yao said. Matthew could have sworn Francis' heart had stopped from shock.

"But, how did he know?"

"It's a long story..." Matthew answered. Francis put his face in his hands and sighed, obviously exhausted.

"Mon Dieu, non…" he whispered.

The three men fell silent for a long time, not knowing what else there was to say. After some unspecified amount of time, two men accompanied by a young nurse emerged from the ICU doors and walked over to the group.

"Matthew? How are you doing?" Arthur asked quietly. It was obvious that he too was bothered by the unexpected turn of events. He quickly turned to Francis and gave a curt nod. "Frog." He muttered.

"It is good to see you, Mr. Williams." remarked Kiku. "I just wish it were under better conditions…" he looked at Yao and quickly turned his gaze back to Matthew. Yao sighed heavily. "Sorry I couldn't come earlier…" he continued.

"It's alright, I know you have a demanding job. Besides, you all got here before me." Matthew remarked before laughed half-heartedly, or more like non-heartedly if that were a proper term.

"I'm sorry to push…But would the next two visitors please come with me?..." the nurse asked quietly. It was obvious she was relatively new on the job and hadn't quite built up emotional immunity to her environment.

"Matthew, would you like to come with me?..." Francis asked.

"I…I need some more time to think things through…" Matthew replied.

"Very well…Yao?" Francis asked. Yao stood silently and walked over to the nurse, he was just barely her height. Francis also stood and the two followed her silently, Matthew stunned that Francis had yet to hit on her.

"Matthew…" Arthur said.

"I know." He replied. Arthur sighed and turned his gaze away. He had never been good at this sort of thing. "Arthur, Kiku…Thanks for coming. You both look exhausted, you should go home…" he said. Both men looked fairly surprised.

"But…Don't you want us here?" Arthur asked.

"Thank you, but I really just want to be alone right now…" Matthew said. Arthur stood straight and sighed again.

"Very well. I'll visit you after work tomorrow…" Arthur promised.

"If you ever need me, just call." Kiku offered awkwardly. Then both men turned away towards the door and offered their goodbyes before leaving.

Matthew was alone again, and this time, he really didn't mind.

He held his head in his hands and looked down at the floor, thinking over everything that had happened up to this point. He was so deep in thought that he just barely noticed a lone woman entering the room, having somehow managed to navigate the large, labyrinthine hospital all by herself. There weren't any open seats besides the one next to Matthew, so she quietly took her spot and looked out the window. Normally, Matthew would have greeted her, but the thought didn't even occur to him in his state of mind. As time drew on, he began to notice that she was looking around the room curiously, and occasionally stole glances at him, but only for small periods of time. He looked at her momentarily, wondering who she was here for.

She had light brown skin and long raven black hair with several gray strands that fell down her back, and her brown eyes looked tired and bewitching at the same time. She was of a strong build, and was dressed somewhat formally, a deep blue skirt that rested just above her knees and a matching jacket with white gloves, sheer black tights, and black heels. Her ears were pierced with small gold studs and she wore a simple black pillbox hat.

He quickly turned to look forward when she refocused her gaze on him, this time it lingered much longer.

"May I ask who you're here for?" she asked calmly. Matthew turned to her, just a tad bit shocked that this total stranger spoke to him so informally.

"My brother." He quickly remarked. "You?...Ma'am?" he said as he remembered his manners.

"My son." She said before sighing. "I haven't seen him in years." She said.

"I'm sorry." Matthew said.

"No…It's alright…" she said, and her gaze quickly moved away and then back to Matthew.

"Tell me…I know I must sound crazy, but...Is your name Matthew?" she asked. Matthew stared at her in shock. How?...

"How did you know?..." he asked. She looked down to the ground again, and Matthew saw tears fall from her eyes.

"Matthew…" she said as she hugged him tightly, nearly suffocating him in the process. She was even stronger than she looked. "You've grown so much…" she remarked quietly. Not really knowing how to react, Matthew reluctantly hugged her back.

"I'm sorry?..." he said. She snapped back into reality and regained her composure, letting Matthew go and quickly wiping the tears from her eyes.

"I'm sorry…Let me explain." She said. "Matthew?..."

"Yes?" he replied.

"I know you probably don't remember me, you were so little when we were separated…" she said. "But perhaps, there is something you'll remember…" she said. He looked at her, still a bit shocked at what was happening.

She sang, 'Land of the Silver Birch, home of the beaver, where still the mighty moose, wanders at will. Blue lake and rocky shore, I will return once more…'

Matthew's stare intensified. He had grown up singing that song without ever really knowing how or why he knew it. "How did you know that song?" he questioned quietly.

"I used to sing it to you when you were a baby. Matthew, I'm your mother."

* * *

AN: This is what I've been dieing to write for the some 2 years I've been working on this on-and-off. Matthew and Alfred's mama finally makes an appearance! In thinking of how she would fit into the story and researching native American culture, I rediscovered my old love and fascination for native American culture. I grew up in New Mexico, where a lot of native tribes still live, so it really brings me back.

Also, if you've ever been to a hospital to see someone that is or may be dying, it's not a very nice experience. But if you're going for, say, someone in your family having a baby, then it's a much nicer event. I've been through both of these happenings, and it's surprising how different the same hospital can seem to you depending on the circumstances…

It seems as though this is going to be longer and more detailed then I originally planned when I came up with the idea while mowing a lawn, though...


	9. Chapter 8

"M…Mom?..." Matthew asked hesitantly.

"Matthew, my little boy…" she said as she embraced him in another unintentional death grip. "You've grown into such a handsome young man…" she said as tears formed in her eyes again.

"Mom…" he murmured as he hugged her back.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you…I'm a horrible mother…" she said.

"I'm sure that's not true…" Matthew reassured. "But, mom…What happened to you? Alfred told me that he ran away and that's about it." He asked. She sighed heavily.

"Well, Matthew…It started right after you were born. These strange men landed on the shore…They had pale skin and light hair; I had never seen anything like it…Except you and your brother. I was afraid that if they saw you…They'd think you were one of their own. That, maybe…they'd try to take you away. They were advancing onto our people's land as though it were their own…So we attacked. They didn't come back for a long time, but eventually, more white men came, this time farther south…And that's how I met Arthur and Francis. Arthur and I started fighting almost immediately, but Francis was of another sort. He was kind and understanding…Albeit he did hit on me once or twice. Eventually, I invited Francis back to our camp and he took an instant liking to you. The more he visited, the more your brother questioned me. Alfred wanted to know why you and he looked more like Francis than me or any of the others, but I couldn't answer him. One day, he sneaked out of camp at night and saw Arthur…And, I guess he decided that he wanted Arthur to take care of him. I tried desperately to get my son back, but to no avail…" she paused shortly.

"After I saw how happy Alfred seemed with Arthur, I decided to avoid conflict with him, but I made him promise he would always take care of Alfred. I told him I'd always keep a watchful eye on them, and that if he ever did anything to hurt him, I would have his scalp." she sighed.

"But, at that point, it was obvious to me that I was fighting a losing battle. My friends and relatives in the south had already been subdued by Antonio and that Portuguese man, and as much as I wanted to believe otherwise, I would never be able to keep up with Arthur's technology and manpower...And you would be swept up in the conflict if I didn't do something quickly. So…I asked Francis to take care of you…It was probably the hardest decision I've ever made, but I knew you were in good hands…And, well, you know the rest of the story..." she said. "I'm so sorry…"

"Mom…It wasn't your fault. The situation was out of your hands…" Matthew said as he hugged her.

"But…There were so many things I could have done better…So many mistakes I could have avoided…" she said.

"Mom…You did your best. Besides, what does it matter now?" he said.

"I'm so proud of you…Francis has raised you well." She said.

Speaking of the devil, said man and his accomplice happened to reenter the room with the nurse that had lead them in just after Matthew's mother finished her sentence. As he saw her, his eyes grew wide.

"Hurit?..." he asked. She turned and looked at him, waving almost sheepishly.

"Hello, Francis." She said. She stood to greet him and found herself being embraced by him.

"Hurit…Where have you been?..." he asked.

"I'd rather not talk about that…" she said.

"I'm so sorry about everything that's happened to you…" he said.

"It's alright…Thank you, though." She said as she hugged him back momentarily before apparently remembering something of crucial importance and going stiff.

"Francis…Please…" she said rather wistfully. He reluctantly let her go and she stood next to Matthew, who by this time had also risen.

"Hurit? I haven't seen you since you and the others crossed Beringia." Yao said, smiling slightly. She returned the smile.

"Time goes by fast, doesn't it? I see the years have been good to you; you don't look like you've aged a day."

"If you say so…" Yao said.

"But…My son…How is he?" Hurit asked. Francis sighed and Yao's gaze fell downward as he solemnly shook his head.

"Hurit…Were you told the details of his injury?" Francis asked.

"Well…Not really. I got a letter saying my son was in the ICU here…" she said.

"Hurit…He was shot." Francis said. "Do you know of a man named Ludwig?...He was trying to shoot Matthew, but Alfred pushed him out of the way…" he finished. Hurit's eyes were filled with horror, like any good mother's would.

"Let me see." She said as she pushed past him and into the ICU without the nurse. "I have to see it for myself."

Matthew quickly followed after her, the nurse looking ahead at the pair in surprise.

"She's very…Strong-willed." Francis explained. "To put it nicely." The nurse nodded and followed mother and son into the ICU, managing to catch up with Hurit before she went too far.

"Ma'am, just let me warn you, he's still in a very unstable position right now…To put it simply, it's not a pretty sight." She said.

"I don't care." Hurit answered. The timid nurse fell silent and lead the two to Alfred's room, stopping them before Hurit could tear the door from its hinges in anticipation.

"Please be quiet and try not to upset him…I'm sure you both know not to touch anything." She said, not really knowing what else to say. She slowly turned and opened the door, allowing mother and son to enter slowly.

"Anna?..." came a familiar, yet significantly weaker voice.

* * *

AN: Hopefully, I pulled this off right...And in case you're wondering, 'anna' is the Algonquian word for 'mother', and since the tribe of natives that lived near Jamestown, the first permanent English settlement on North America, spoke a form of Algonquian, I though it was fitting. Hurit is an Algonquian name meaning 'beautiful'. I'm not saying Hurit herself only personifies the Algonquian tribes, I just kind of use it in case I need something specific language wise due to the proximity the Algonquians had with Jamestown.

Francis isn't quite like he's usually portrayed, but...I just have a lot of trouble writing for his kind of character. I've always imagined that he matured more later on in his life, especially after being an accessory to one of his best friend's murder. And I know I've made Iggy a jerk here, but I do love him. He just didn't always make the best decisions...Man, I could've named this story 'decisions' or 'uncorrectable mistakes' or something like that.

Also, the 'pale-skinned, light haired' men Hurit is talking about near the beginning are the Nordics, mostly Norway and Iceland. May it be known that the Vikings are the first known Europeans to set foot on North America, not Columbus. Technically, he never actually even touched North America except for maybe a couple of countries in Central America and the Caribbean Islands...Yeah, I'm a history nerd. And a nerd in general, really.


	10. Chapter 9

AN: I wrote this largely while listening to 'Bratja' from Full Metal Alchemist, which is a bit ironic because it's Russian. Anyway, if you want to, I suggest going to youtube and looking it up while reading this. It's a beautiful song, and the lyrics (if you look them up) fit this very nicely. I think it's a conspiracy that I rediscovered it just as I was struggling to write this...I'm watching you, Russia.

* * *

The nurse hadn't been joking when she said that Alfred wasn't a pretty sight. He was pale and sickly-looking, an IV needle stuck in his right arm and a plethora of machines attached to him that had no discernible use to the untrained eye, aside from the diminutive heart monitor barely audible somewhere in the background. His usual glad countenance was replaced by one of fatigue and-perhaps worst of all-a large white bandage had been tightly wrapped around his head so that his left eye was hidden from view. If most people hadn't been told previously that this was Alfred Jones, they would have looked at you with an expression of disbelief at least; and even if they had been, they would have found it difficult to believe.

But Matthew was, after all, his brother.

"Alfred?..." he whispered so quietly that even he could barely hear.

"My son..." Hurit said as she walked over to his side and placed a glove hand on his face.

"Anna?..." Alfred asked reluctantly.

"Yes Alfred, it's me. Your mother." She said.

"M…Mom?"

"Do you remember me?" she asked, unfazed as she removed her hand. Alfred looked down at his hands, which sat limply on the bed.

"Of course. How could I forget the person I hurt more than any other…" he said.

"Alfred, don't say that." Hurit replied.

"But it's true!" he said, the heart monitor that had previously been ticking in the background speeding up considerably. As calm as ever, Hurit placed a hand on the crown of her elder son's head.

"Maybe so. But Alfred, you have to realize something: I forgave you long ago. My son, it is yourself you must forgive." She stated. "Besides, you're not the only one that's hurt those you love…" she added morosely.

"Mom," Alfred said. "Mom, where have you been? Do you know the things I've done, the lives I've destroyed, the sins I've committed?" he asked almost angrily. She regarded this information as coolly as ever and calmly replied.

"My son, Alfred, surely I taught you in the beginning that people like us are bound to cause pain and destruction and strife. I said that we'd do unforgivable things, horrible things. It's a fate we are all doomed to, no matter how hard we try to avoid it. Not you, not me, not your brother, or your past caretakers and allies…We are all shackled to the same fate." She paused. "But…It isn't all bad. In the path of destruction we carve out for ourselves, we meet others that are akin to us. They understand our plight, our pain, and our difficulties. We grow close to them, laugh with them, fight with them, and one day find that we have grown to love them. Perhaps someday they will be abruptly taken from us, or us from them, and there is nothing that can be done about that." She said. Alfred clenched the sheets in his palms.

"But…Alfred, you must live on in their memory. Even as they fade from history's pages and others forget, we must always keep their memory alive. Even so, we must move on at the same time. You must not allow the past to weigh you down, for nothing can be done about it but lamenting, and in the end, that gets you nowhere. I am one of the only original settlers that crossed Beringia all those years ago left…It is difficult, knowing that so many of my relatives, my comrades, even my enemies are long gone. But I must live one…For them, for my sons…" she said.

"But mom!" Alfred finally interjected. "Mom…Don't you remember? All the pain and misery I put you through? How I betrayed you, my own mother, for a near-stranger, and then abandoned him in turn? All the awful things I've done, to you, and Matthew, and Arthur, and…" he fell silent. "And Gilbert..." he finally said. His mother sighed concernedly, and then turned to Matthew.

"Matthew, my younger son." She said softly.

"Yes?..." he responded, once again feeling as though the fourth wall had been broken by his acknowledgement.

"Have you forgiven your brother of his misdeeds against you?" she asked.

"Well, it's not always easy, but he's my brother…Of course I have." He said sheepishly. "And it's not like I haven't done things that I regret…" he added.

"Alfred, I've spoken to Arthur recently, and I know for a fact that he's honestly forgiven you. If your brother and Arthur can find it in their hearts to forgive you, then why can you not forgive yourself?" she asked.

"Because!..." Alfred continued, trying to find something to back up his statement. "Because…I can't! Especially not after…After seeing the state Ludwig was in." he said.

"The man that shot you?" Hurit asked in disgust. "What does he have to do with it?"

"Mom…I…Do you remember a man by the name of Gilbert Beilschmidt?"

"Vaguely…" she replied.

"You know how they say he committed suicide? That's a lie. Mom…I killed him. I shot him in the chest and he bled to death right before my eyes. Arthur, Ivan, and Francis were there, but…I killed him. We framed it to look like a suicide. Ludwig is his younger brother, and he found out I killed him. So…He tried to shoot Matthew so I could understand what it was like to lose a brother. But I pushed Matthew out of the way, and…Here we are." Alfred confessed. Hurit, eyes wide, turned to her younger son for confirmation, and Matthew, looking away sadly, slowly nodded his head in agreement.

"Alfred…Why?" she asked, subtly horrified.

"I…I thought it would make me stronger. That, if I did what the others used to do…Then I'd get as stronger. Maybe even stronger. That's what I hoped, anyway…" he smirked sarcastically. "My plan hasn't exactly worked out, obviously." He said, looking his mother in the eyes. "Are you ashamed of me now, like you should be?"

She paused for a good moment, thinking her words over carefully. Finally, she spoke:

"No. No, my son, I am not ashamed of you." She said as she hugged him securely, just barely restraining herself from catching him in an unintentional death grip due to his condition. "Extremely disappointed, but not ashamed. Alfred, you've done a lot of bad things, but you're my son. I'll always love you, no matter what. And your story proves that you are capable of good."

"How?..." Alfred asked, honestly confused.

"You risked your own life to save that of your brother. Personal sacrifice is the strongest manifestation of love."

"He's my brother, I care about him. Besides, anyone would have done it…"

"I beg to differ. There are many in this world that would have saved their own skins first." She said, turning to smile at her younger son and motioning for him to come closer. "Without you, your brother probably wouldn't be here."

"So? Mom, don't say I'm a hero."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. But you did save him." Hurit replied.

"Mom…Why?...Why did you come? Why do you still bother with me?" Alfred asked, utterly confused.

"Because I love you, my son." She said. Finally, Alfred hugged his mother back, albeit rather weakly. "I always have and I always will."

"Alfred…" Matthew finally said. Both mother and elder brother turned to look at him. "You're my brother. I know you're not a bad person deep down…But thank you. Thank you for saving me. When Ludwig pointed that pistol to my head…I just kind of gave up. I was sure I was going to die. Thank you…"

"Don't thank me." Alfred said. "You're my bro. That's what bros do." He said, almost smiling. Matthew smiled back. Just as he was about to reply, the door opened, and a man in his middle ages with a full length doctor's coat looked in.

"Are you Mr. Jones' family?" he asked reservedly.

"Yes…" Hurit answered.

"May I speak with both of you privately?..." he replied. Matthew and Hurit looked at Alfred, and then exchanged glances before reluctantly following the doctor out into the hall before he closed the door behind them.

* * *

Just as soon as something even remotely positive happens, some previously unmentioned character has to come along and dash all of that away. Yup yup. It's a rule in this story, dearies. Anyway, almost done!


	11. Chapter 10

You know, America was my least favorite character in all of Hetalia when I started writing this some two years ago. As ridiculous as this sounds, it took his English voice actor Eric Vale (pretty much all of the other English voice actors are worse or at best equal to the Japanese voice actors) to make me realize he isn't so bad. And now, I actually, kind of, sort of, like him. Not as much as Canada, of course. And there's no way he's ever going to compete with Russia and Sweden for #1, but now I can say that I don't hate a single character in Hetalia (Ok, maybe pouring so much blood, sweat, and tears into this had something to do with it, too).

* * *

Matthew knew from the moment that he had first seen the doctor that whatever he had to tell them wasn't good. As the doctor shut the door behind Matthew and his mother, Matthew froze up like a child that had been pulled out of class for misbehavior; looking down to the floor. The doctor had just barely glanced at him and then focused his gaze on Matthew's mother, just like almost everyone else did.

"Are you his mother?" the man asked.

"Yes." Hurit replied matter-of-factly.

"…We still aren't entirely sure of the circumstances, but x-rays show that the bullet pierced his eye and fractured the outside of his skull. It's a miracle it didn't penetrate any further." He said. "We had to remove the eye in surgery. It was damaged beyond repair." He finished. Matthew's mother sighed heavily at this news, but made no comments.

"There's another thing that bothers me. Ever since he first regained conscience here, Alfred's been showing some very strange symptoms."

"Like what?"

"…He mutters in his sleep, for one. And there's a pattern behind it. According to one of the nurses that observed him, Alfred usually makes threats to unknown people. Violent threats. And then…He pleads for forgiveness." He paused. "Ma'am…I've never seen such strong psychological strain be put on one person…"

"What are you insinuating?" Hurit asked somewhat defensively.

"…Ma'am, we still aren't entirely clear on the incident that lead up to this point. Alfred's been too traumatized to recount it to any of the staff, and most if not all of his visitors. Has he opened up to you, at all?" he asked. Hurit sighed and looked over to her younger son.

"No, not really." She said. Matthew was a little shocked at first, but he realized that she was only trying to protect her son from judgment.

"…Ma'am, whether it be the actual incident or something occurring before, your son's mentality is in an extremely fragile state. I don't think it would be helpful to release him as soon as he's physically recovered."

"Physically?" Hurit repeated. "Are you saying my son is insane?"

"Not insane. Mentally disturbed." The man said apathetically. Matthew looked up and saw his placid expression.

"Do you even realize what you're saying?" Hurit said, voicing her younger son's thoughts. "What kind of significance that hold to us, his family?" The man looked slightly taken aback, but regained his composure almost automatically.

"Ma'am, I work with the severely injured and dying every day. In this profession, you have to learn to stay calm under all circumstances."

"So you've built up an emotional immunity?" she said. "Doctor, there's a fine line between professionalism and apathy, and I'm afraid to say that you have crossed it."

"Ma'am, I am trying to tell you about your son." He replied almost irritably. "I'm afraid it's my duty as a doctor to recommend him for psychological analysis. And then…If needed, have him treated at a mental health institution."

"'Mental health institution'?" Hurit asked, the irritability evident in her voice. "I've visited a so-called mental health institution to support a friend and the way those places are ran seems more like a prison that a hospital to me."

"That's only for the dangerous patients, ma'am." He said. At this, Hurit fell silent, not really knowing how to respond. Finally, Matthew spoke.

"When can my brother come home?" he asked calmly. The doctor looked at him almost as though it were the first time he noticed Matthew.

"It depends on how well he adjusts and responds to the treatme-"

"When can my brother come home?" Matthew asked irritably. Just like the few other people that had ever heard Matthew raise his voice, the doctor looked just a bit shocked.

"…I can't answer that for sure." The doctor finally said. "If his condition is as poor as it seems to us, then…It'll be a very long road. He might never fully recover…" he said. At this, Hurit sighed heavily and held her face.

"We haven't informed him of this yet. I'll give you a few more minutes with him." The doctor said before turning away.

Both mother and son stood still, emotional numbness washing over them as a defense mechanism against everything that had just transpired.

Hurit was the first to make a move, putting her hand on the door knob to her elder son's room and glancing at Matthew, who reluctantly followed her after she opened the door and walked in.

"What did he say?" Alfred asked.

"He said he's worried about your mentality." Hurit replied. "To be honest, you've got me a bit worried, too."

"What are they going to do to me?..." Alfred asked.

"Nothing. Alfred…They may keep you here longer. They said…They wanted to perform psychological tests on you…" she said.

"Maybe they'll actually find out what's wrong with me now…" Alfred said pessimistically.

"Son…You're ok with this?" Hurit asked.

"Well, I don't like it, but it beats what I was doing before…" Alfred said. "I hate hospitals, I HATE them. But…Maybe here, they can help me. And this way, everyone'll be safe…"

"Al?..." Matthew chirped up.

"Yeah, bro?" Alfred said. Matthew paused for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts.

"…I'm going to miss you." He said. Alfred laughed weakly.

"You act like I'm dying." He said.

"I'll hardly ever get to see you." Matthew said. Alfred sighed quietly. After years of neglect and ignorance, Alfred knew Matthew could get terribly anxious about being alone for long periods of time.

"I'm sorry. I'll try to recover as fast as I can. But, until then…Mom?" he said. "Would you visit Matt every now and then? Y'know…" he said. Hurit smiled.

"Of course. I was just about to ask that myself. Son, you can visit or call me whenever you want." Hurit said to Matthew. "I have a lot of catching-up to do on mothering." She said before catching Matthew in another death-grip.

"T-Thanks…mom…" Matthew said.

"I'm so proud of both of my boys…Even if you make mistakes, you'll always be my sons. Life from here on out will be hard for all of us, but I'll always love you and be there for you, no matter what." She said. She released Matthew and walked over to Alfred's bedside, taking his hand.

"I wish our reunion had been under happier circumstances…But I suppose tragedy is what brings people together best." She said, tears welling in her eyes. "I'm sorry that it came to this…"

"Mom, please." Alfred said. The three turned when they suddenly heard the door click open and the doctor from before peered in.

"Visiting hours are over." He said. Hurit hugged Alfred one more time. Matthew stood by his bedside, finding himself being roughly pulled into yet another death-grip by his brother.

"You better take care of yourself, bro. Don't end up like me, or I'll kill you." Alfred said, somewhat jokingly. Matthew laughed nervously and momentarily hugged back before he was released and inhaled as quietly as he could. Matthew and Hurit reluctantly left the room and waved their goodbyes before the door was closed behind them and they were ushered out to the reception area.

"Mom, how'd you get here?" Matthew asked.

"I took the bus. Why?" she asked.

"I'll drive you home." He said. She smiled, still sad-eyed, and followed him to his car. For quite some time, the ride was quiet aside from the occasional instructions given by Hurit, but for once, Matthew managed to start a conversation.

"Hey, mom?"

"Yes, my son?"

"Do you think…Alfred'll ever get better?" he asked. She sighed.

"…I don't know, Matthew. I pray that he will, but all we can do is be there to support him."

"Yeah…I guess you're right." He paused. "Mom…I'm scared. For him, for the future, for everyone." He said. She smiled sadly.

"Times of uncertainty are very dark indeed. But, Matthew, just remember this whenever you're apprehensive; it's always darkest before the dawn."

* * *

AN: Holy crapola! Am...Am I really done? Did I actually manage to finish my first chapter story for anything? Ever? I...I'm so happy and relieved. Yet, at the same time, disappointed...Y'know, I think I've learned that the hardest part of a story is ending it properly, which I really hope I did since, like I said, I've never finished anything more than one-shots or very short novellas. Anyway, expect something about the Nordics (I loves me some Nordics) next and, for you Homestuck fans, something to do with the trolls later on.

So...I hate to pry, but I would really, really appreciate reviews and constructive criticism. I want to know what you guys like and don't so I can make future attempts bigger and better! Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! (Hint hint: There just maaaaaaaay be a little extra in a short while. Maaaaaaaaybe.)


	12. Prequel

Derp. I had to. I just _had __to. _But I swear this is the last time I'll be bothering you guys with this story. You don't have to read it if you're already tired of me, so yeah.

* * *

"Over here." Called a man with ultra-blonde hair as he directed two other men carrying a large trunk. They set it down in front of him and he dismissed them with a nod. They walked away, clearly having numerous other duties to attend to in this strange new land.

The blonde pushed the bangs from his left eye behind his ear to get a better look of the terrain, his blank nearly purple eyes taking in the scenery. It was a peaceful land of bountiful forests and beautiful lakes, not unlike his own but still fairly different.

"Emil." He called. A boy in his mid-teens calmly walked over to the elder man and stood beside him.

"Yes, Nikolai?" he answered calmly. Nikolai remained silent. "What is it?" Emil asked, just a hint of impatience hidden in his voice.

"Why don't you call me brother anymore?" Nikolai asked, as outwardly calm as ever. Emil looked just a tad bit more annoyed then previously before answering.

"Because, we're not brothers." He replied quickly.

"You don't know that." Nikolai countered. Emil looked away. Nikolai almost sighed and decided to drop the matter; he knew that pushing would get him nowhere.

"Anyway…" he digressed. "Who would have thought this was so close to your island? It's nice…" he remarked.

"Yeah." Emil replied.

"There are a lot of opportunities here. A new land, a new settlement…" he said.

"Hey, Nikolai." Emil said. "Do you think people already live here?"

"Probably." Nikolai replied as he began to walk away to attend to some unstated matter. "We just have to be careful." He said.

"Yeah…" Emil said absently before running to catch up with Nikolai.

The two never would have guessed that they were being watched at that very moment.

Hurit looked upon the two curiously, wondering exactly who or what they were. She pushed her hair behind her ear and changed to a more comfortable position before she contemplated these foreigners any further.

They were both incredibly pale, and she wondered how on earth they avoided sunburn. She wondered if their hair really was that color, or if their eyes constantly hurt from the strain of the sunlight.

But most of all, she wondered who they were and where they had come from. What kind of land did such strange people come from; although she did have to admit that the elder of the two with the piercing eyes (what was his name? Nikolai?) was rather handsome, but that was beside the point. She had never in her life seen anything like the men that had now landed on the shore of her people's land. That is, except…

She quickly stood and started making her way back to camp, fully intent on reporting the foreigners.

…..

After making her report and being told to come to a council that night to discuss her findings, Hurit made her way to the widow's hut. The widow was a kindly woman with graying hair and a smile that seemed too large for her face. She often took care of the children and wounded when their mothers or family had important affairs to attend to, and seeing as Hurit was a scout and warrior, the widow often looked after her two boys while she was away. Hurit entered the widow's hut and greeted her.

"Hello, Hurit." The widow greeted kindly, grinning her trademark smile. Sleeping at the widow's feet, wrapped up in a deer skin was Alfred, Hurit's first born, and in the widow's arms slept Matthew, just several months old. Hurit smiled warmly at the sight of her sons.

"Thank you so much." She said to the widow. The widow's smile only grew larger.

"Oh dear, you know I love watching your boys. But you have your hands full with Alfred…At least Matthew is an easy baby." She said as she looked down to the sleeping child in her arms.

"Yes, I must agree." Hurit said.

"Tell me, Hurit, did you see anything out of the ordinary?" the widow asked. Hurit's expression grew somewhat worried.

"Well…"

"Please, tell me." The widow said, motioning for Hurit to sit.

"Some men landed on the shore today." She said.

"The shore?" the widow asked a bit incredulously.

"Yes. And…In huge boats, too." She said, holding her hands out to emphasize the size. "And they were all so pale…" she said.

"Hm…Very strange indeed." The widow replied. "Do they come in peace?"

"I don't think they mean to do any harm, but…" Hurit said.

"Well, dear, it's best to play these kinds of situations by ear." The widow said. "Have you reported this yet?"

"Yes, we're having a council to discuss it tonight." Hurit said. "But…The foreigners… They looked a lot like my sons."

"How would that be?" the widow asked.

"I…I don't know. They were pale and many had bright yellow hair and eyes like the sky…You don't think…That if they see them, they'd think that my boys were their own?..." Hurit asked.

"Oh, dear, of course not. Why would they?" the widow reassured.

"But…What if they try to take them away from me?"

"Dear, I doubt they would. And even if they did, we'd be more than able to fight them off." She said. "But it's not likely to come to that. You have nothing to worry about." She said.

"Thank you for listening." Hurit said as she stood and smiled halfheartedly.

"Anytime. And truly, don't worry about it!" the widow said.

Hurit knelt to the floor, gently nuzzling her elder son's shoulder.

"Alfred." She whispered quietly. The young boy stirred before his blue eyes fluttered open and he yawned.

"Anna?..." he said quietly. Hurit smiled and helped him to his feet.

"Yes, Alfred, I'm back. Are you ready to go home?" she said. The young boy looked at her hazily, and after finally managing to process what she said, nodded slowly. The widow gently handed the sleeping baby to his mother and she cradled him securely before saying her final goodbye to the widow and leaving for her own home. Come hell or high water, or even pale-skinned men, she would never let them take her boys from her.

* * *

I had to. I had to mention Norway and Iceland. No so much for the story's sake as my own. In case you haven't noticed, I'm obsessed with family bonds, especially those between siblings (that probably also comes from me watching Full Metal Alchemist when I was eight...With my sister, who always made me cover my eyes at the 'scary parts'). Anyway, thanks for putting up with me for so long, this things turned out to be a lot longer than I originally intended *cough* Four chapters *cough*. A story with a depressing end is forming in my head, so don't worry.


End file.
